The Special People Club

Clue: She has a talk show and she puts a lot of sluts on it. Answer: It's Oprah....this is an infamous clue in a CP family game.

I'd love to use one of those cool polling widgets, but this survey requires comments/explanations. When I was filling out my list of fours, I was listing the cool places I'd been and then I felt like I needed to throw in something bland to keep me humble. So I thought and thought, and came up with Kansas. Not that there's anything wrong with Kansas. Sure, it's flat, but Manhattan KS is nice, and my cool-mo-D glasses are styled by a company in Kansas. So Kansas is fine by me, and I have been there, so it was really just saying. But this got me thinking. If you were trying to come up with the most boring state in the US, which would it be? And why? I mean, surely even wild, unruly Alaska and whacked-out CA are boring to SOMEONE. So, what do you think?

Obesity is the root of all evil. Just ask the media. Soon, I believe they'll be blaming fatties for global warming. All that friction from thighs rubbing together and all. Update: A quick google shows they have already started: read this !

Today I got up and made coffee and toast and decided to watch BBC Breakfast to wake up. One of their reporters was a nice man who was obviously a Thalidomide Baby (arms), and who had one eye that was mostly shut. We didn't see him doing the slow power walk so common in the news media, but he did everything else. He even picked things up and showed them to the camera. Can you imagine this on Good Morning, America ? Way to go, Britain!

CP emailed me this, but I don't actually fill these out and then clog my friend's in boxes with them. Instead, I blog them as a tag and infect the blogosphere , where people like to share these sorts of intimate details with complete strangers. So here goes. Various sets of four things about me that you may or may not know in no particular order Four jobs I have had in my life 1. Radio DJ 2. Receptionist at Fishing and Hunting News 3. Telemarketer 4. Designer/layout specialist for the Cato Institute (I was a contractor who couldn't say no) Four movies I would watch over and over: 1. Dirty Dancing 2. Annie Hall 3. Hairspray 4. Little Miss Sunshine Four places I have lived: 1. Decorah IA 2. St. Paul MN 3. Seattle WA 4. Milton Keynes UK Four TV Shows that I watch: 1. Torchwood 2. Friday Night with Jonathan Ross 3. Psych 4. Crossing Jordan Four Places I have been: 1. Oman 2. Zambia 3. Wales 4. Kansas Four of my favorite foods: (how cruel that I only...

Clue (from about 1994): "She has a TV show, she dresses like a man, and she thinks she's funny but she's not. And she sounds like she lisps."

Clue: "She's like Aunt Jemima. Except she's white." ANSWER: Mrs. Butterworth - although the brown bottle sometimes confuses people into thinking she's one of those offensive "mammy-doll" things, she is rumored to be a matronly, anglo grandmother type. In reality, I'd say the clue may not be true, but that's not the point. It was said in a game, and we got it on the first guess.

Shortly after registering for the Great North Run, I found out that a planned trip to Zambia with some friends conflicted with the run. So instead of doing a half marathon the first week of October, I'm now doing 10 miles the last week - the Great South Run. And I'm training with my co-coach from the SOM, and, since we've effectively motivated each other through the MBA, I think we'll be a good match to go from lardass to distance runner together. (Not that he's a lardass. But he does smoke.)

Can you imagine being the guy that lost your company $7.2 BILLION dollars ? Which is worse, I wonder? The shame of gigantic financial loss, or the shame of revealing that the French banking industry isn't as advanced as it seems? Either way, that would suck. Mon Dieu !

FYI, untucked-overly-pressed imitation Ted Baker shirts, dark wash jeans, pointy toed loafers and buckets of cheap cologne or Lynx body spray just aren't as sexy as they used to be.

Sometimes blogging politics make me feel like I'm in junior high. I used to feel pressure to be witty on this blog. One of the clever ones. One of those blogs people came to daily, knowing they would get a chuckle from some pithy observation. But I failed. Many of the cool kids have link dumped me. (And thanks, by the way, to those of you who haven't!) I guess I don't post enough pictures of Samantha Brown naked. If only I had a crazy mother-in-law to secretly film, perhaps I'd be more popular. Sigh. Rather than wallow in the fact that my patent uncoolness has finally bled to the internets , I've decided to make rejection liberating. I have more time for blogging now, and so I'm updating my links to the sites I actually read, I'm going to have a play with the look and feel of the site in the next few weeks and work on some new series to organise my thoughts. I vow to make this blog more interesting. Something truly link-worthy, so the next time I get a...

Bubs and Mz . Bubs over at Sprawling Ramshackle Compound are some of my favourite people on these here internets , and though it's taken me some time to get around to it, when they tag me for a little self-reflection, I jump. (NB....Since my titles this week seem to tend towards bad pop-culture puns, I'm making a new series title for tags (NOT memes.)) This time round, I'm to tell you all about 5 things I didn't imagine for myself 25 years ago (or at 25, whichever seems more appropriate.) So here goes. 1. First off, I guess I didn't imagine I'd live abroad. Or, more precisely, I imagined living abroad but didn't imagine that I'd ever do it. I'm not the sort to join the military - one sure fire way to get sent to foreign soil - and though I toyed with taking the Civil Service exam and trying to get into diplomatic service, my strong left-leaning politics convinced me that that would be too temperamental a position should the wrong party get too p...

Normally, I don't get all that upset about celebrity deaths. I'm sad for a moment, but then I move on. I mean, I don't know them. I don't know if they were nice or not, if they were smart and funny and kind or any of the other stuff that makes me like a person. And though the news of Heath Ledger's death made me sad, it wasn't any different than any other tragic death of someone in their 20's. Sure, there's that creepy Mary-Kate Olson link to make it a bit more sordid, but that makes me say " EW !" and so I'm ignoring it. Not to be crass, but we've managed without River Phoenix, we can make it through this, too. What makes this death upsetting for me is the mean-spirited evil it's brought out in the homo-phobic conservative movement. Chris talks about that mummified asshole John Gibson's bad jokes here . CP talks about those lunatic picketers here . And if you spend any amount of time reading about his death, you find som...

I had my eyes tested this week. Since I turned 40, my eyes have gotten progressively worse, especially where reading is concerned. Although none of my glasses had fallen from fashion, the lenses were obviously not right. My company pays for eye exams once a year with a mobile clinic that sets up in the parking lot, and so I bravely made an appointment to be told exactly how old I really am. Before the doctor even got out those goofy 1/2/3/4 test lenses, I told him that there was no way on God's green earth I was getting bifocals. None. He made that "no lines are impossible to detect" argument that I countered with, "I would know, and that's the problem." So we settled on two pairs of glasses. As suspected, my reading prescription has gotten stronger, but my distance prescription is actually slightly weaker. I elected to have distance lenses put in my preferred pair of current frames and purchased new ones for the readers. When I'm in the states, I'll...

It's the only explanation I can think of. Because March 25 - 29th, I'm going here .

Today, I registered in the open ballot for this . I must be high. But just in case I get in, the training has begun.

If you're going to buy a sports car with an engine that roars and pass me at high speeds in residential zones to prove your manhood, please don't sit like an old woman at the roundabout, waiting for an engraved invitation to merge.

Sorry for the lack of posts. I've really just had nothing to say. I think the holidays and the flu and business at work and planning and then hosting orientation for the new crop of MBAs has zapped me of any thought, creativity or interests. It's not that there's anything wrong, exactly, it's just that I'm kind of exhausted. But I appreciate all your messages, and I'm sorry I haven't written back. This lack of communication has spread to emails, phone calls and everything in between. Orientation for the new folks went very well. They were all terrified and nervous and excited at the same time, and it brought back a lot of memories. It is impossible to imagine that only two years ago that was me. I'm a different person now. More confident, more capable, more intense...and it really moved me to see that glimpse of the old me. I was the lead orienteer , which meant I got a different colored t-shirt and had to talk a lot. I was seen as the alpha, which, of...

So you know I love you. And I'm happy you read my blog and I love reading your blogs and now that I don't have to study all the time I may even start commenting, heaven forbid. But Madame Leiderhosen , man, she wins. She sends caramels. Delicious, mouth-watering to-die-for caramels. Thanks, Madame L.

Here's a picture of my new best friends. If only they looked like Mark Ruffalo and told me jokes and read me books and rubbed my feet. Get on that why doncha, GSK.

I'm back in England and I am getting a cold. I feel like crap and it physically hurts to hold my head up. Oh. And my nose is dripping and I have a sore throat and itchy inner ears. Time went whizzing by in the US. I'm so sorry I missed some of you. Between weather and emotions it was a pretty stormy trip. I had good quality time with my family, though, and that's what really matters, especially this year. I'll be back soon with a proper post, but right now I need Lemsip and a nap.